The Birth of a Hero (1)
Aiden let out a dry, incredulous laugh.
'Wait, isn't a ban on dual employment for civil servants a given?'
Even in private companies, clauses prohibiting side jobs were standard in employment contracts. It was only natural. It was the most basic measure to prevent employees from using information gained through their work for personal gain. How much more so for civil servants? They were, after all, public servants.
Even if low-level officials didn't have much authority or access to sensitive intelligence, the world was a place where rumors flowed like water. If you spent enough time in a government office, you’d hear everything. "This area is the prime candidate for the new land development project." "The city council members are meeting with people from this specific industry." "Did you hear they're pulling staff for a crackdown?"
A government office was a place where, if you spent just a week listening to the mundane chatter, you’d be flooded with opportunities for investment or preparation. Even in a world equipped with every safety mechanism imaginable—from conflict-of-interest laws to civil service ethics codes—the higher-ups still engaged in real estate speculation, created paper companies, and stole the identities of their relatives. In the end, it was all about the money.
'And they have absolutely no such regulations here?'
Ah, wasn't this worse than leaving a fish in the care of a cat?
"But surely the lords are keeping it in check behind the scenes?"
If they didn't, how could the territory even function? The lords weren't idiots; they wouldn't just stand by and watch that chaotic mess unfold without intervening.
"Oh, sir. The lords are the ones who exploit that the most."
"?"
"If they didn't, do you think their vassals would stay loyal for a measly, tiny manor that barely generates any tax revenue?"
Roland winked, his expression clearly saying, 'You know this!'
'Know what?'
Aiden felt increasingly bewildered.
"...So, you're saying the lords actually encourage their vassals to hold side jobs?"
"Exactly. They hand over a slice of the territory's interests to their vassals' families in exchange for loyalty. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship, isn't it? The lord saves on the land he’d otherwise have to grant as a fief, and the vassals get sufficient compensation. It’s a good deal."
"Good deal, my foot."
Now he understood. This was why this place was so slow to develop. When the people at the top were determined to carve up the pie among themselves, there was no way any real progress could be made.
"So, that's really the standard?"
"It’s common sense."
"And Lontes is the same?"
"Uh... I suppose so?"
"You have a rough idea, don't you?"
"Pardon?"
But this wasn't something to just laugh off in disbelief.
Heh.
Aiden’s lips curled upward, making no attempt to hide his amusement. The neighborhood bully next door had been acting tough, hiding the fact that he was actually soft, but it turned out that bulk wasn't muscle—it was pure fat. A hundred-percent, organic, flabby mess that had never seen a day of real exercise.
'Even the million-strong army of the Sui Dynasty was only a real army during the reign of Emperor Taizong of Tang. By the end, they were just big, fleshy punching bags.'
The Tang army of that era, when uprisings broke out everywhere and local warlords raised troops, was essentially incapable of responding because their organization had completely rotted away.
Just thinking about it made his mouth water.
"I think we might be able to 'help' with those side jobs of the Lontes vassals."
Aiden licked his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Though Roland didn't understand the reasoning behind his superior's sudden order, he began to jot down everything he knew. From the merchant guild of Jefferson, the newly appointed adjutant of Lontes, to the small inn run by the person in charge of military supplies—he listed them all.
"Look, they're coming!"
"They arrived safely again this time."
"Hurry and unload the wood. We need to move fast if we want to finish by the deadline."
The shipyard workers of Lontes prepared for the unloading, a familiar sight now as they watched the rafts floating down the river, loaded with timber from the North.
"It’s still amazing, though."
"To think trees could grow this straight."
"The North might be barren, but their wood is top-tier."
"If they didn't have this, those Northern bastards would’ve all frozen to death, right?"
"Hahaha. True, true. They’re only barely keeping their lives thanks to this wood. They’ll probably sell it to scrape by again this time."
"You bet!"
Even as they marveled at the Northern timber, they sneered at the Northerners, who were bundled up in thick furs. Of course, they kept their voices low. They knew that if those beast-like barbarians heard them and a brawl broke out, it would be their own heads that got cracked.
The laborers' disdain for the Northerners hadn't changed since the beginning. However, not everything at the shipyard was the same.
"Oh, Adjutant! You’ve come in person again! The journey must have been treacherous; we’d love to treat you to a meal."
"Jamie! Over here! It’s me! We met once before, do you remember? This is some precious ink from the capital...!"
"...Jamie. If you look at the goods we’ve prepared this time, you’ll surely be satisfied. We have some fine liquor, too—how about it?"
The biggest change of all: the number of people desperately waiting for the Northerners had increased significantly.
It was the result of merchants eyeing the top-tier furs they wore, mixed with those who had learned of the Northerners' habit of spending the timber payments immediately. Aiden had begun to control the sales volume and prices of furs and hides through the trading post, and he had been intentionally keeping the highest-grade items off the market.
But there was no way the high-and-mighty would be satisfied with the quality of mediocre goods. Naturally, the merchants became obsessed with the top-tier furs worn by the Northerners who came to trade timber.
- Luxury goods are just like that. Even a slight difference in quality can multiply the price tenfold.
Once the quality of a luxury item crosses a certain threshold, it’s no longer a matter of reason. It’s a battle of pride, or perhaps an expression of, 'I am different from you.' The moment emotion, rather than logic, takes precedence in a purchase, an item transcends luxury and enters the realm of a masterpiece. That was exactly the case with Northern furs right now.
And when this moment arrives, the "buyer" is no longer the one in power in the market—the seller is.
Just like a certain French luxury brand where, to buy a bag, you have to buy accessories, shoes, scarves, and even dishes you have no interest in just to build up "points" before you can even hear the words, "Would you like to see a bag?"
"I think I should have a meal first."
"Oh, Adjutant! Let me take you to a great place, hahaha!"
Jamie performed the role of a muscle-brained fool, completely intoxicated by his superiority as the "buyer," to perfection. The merchant who offered to treat him had no idea he was the one being hunted, too busy racking his brain on how to fleece this Northern bumpkin.
The place he led him to was a high-end inn in Lontes. It doubled as a restaurant and was a favorite haunt of Lontes nobles; the chef was said to have worked for a Count in the capital.
"This is a seafood soup flavored with white wine and spices."
As the waitress set down the soup and bread for the first course, Jamie immediately frowned.
"They say it’s a recipe currently trending in the capital. Please, have a taste."
"The capital, huh. Let's see... Hmm, well. It’s alright."
After one spoonful, Jamie’s eyes widened, seemingly surprised by the complex aroma of the spices, but he gave a lukewarm reaction. He was a perfect bumpkin, unable to admit he was surprised and trying hard to act indifferent.
The dishes that followed were the same. Jamie seemed unaccustomed to the "sophisticated" style of dining and cooking from the capital, but his habit of licking his lips in anticipation of the next course seemed to give the Lontes merchant quite a bit of confidence.
'A Northern hillbilly, where would he have ever seen something like this? Anyway, this is a good enough opening to bring it up.'
Jamie’s bear-like physique was perfect for this kind of deception. By preventing the other party from ever imagining that the man sitting before them was a "born-to-be" administrator with a mastery of bureaucracy, he could let the merchant do all the work with just a few surprised expressions.
"Um, Adjutant. I have a few ears in the Lontes Viscount's castle."
"...And?"
"I hear that there's growing support for the idea of continuing to buy timber from the North, not just this winter, but indefinitely."
"Hmm. Is that reliable information?"
"Of course it is."
"A continuous trade. That’s not a bad thing for us in the North."
But Jamie’s expression as he said this was far from pleased. The merchant judged that the annoyed look was due to weariness.
'Even if it is a hillbilly town, he’s an Adjutant in name, so he can’t be happy about riding a raft to sell wood every single time.'
Therefore, he made a subtle suggestion.
"If this is going to be a continuous trade anyway, you’re going through so much trouble, Adjutant—shouldn't you be receiving a proper reward for it?"
"I’m already receiving a sufficient salary."
"Does anyone in this world live on just rice? After a meal, you want tea; after tea, you want a snack—that’s human nature."
"Don't beat around the bush and just say it. What do you want me to do?"
"Haha! You’re straightforward, as expected. Then I’ll get right to it. The furs the Northerners bring when they come to trade timber—how about you trade them exclusively with our merchant guild?"
The merchant intended to swallow the broken trade route for top-tier Northern furs.
"Instead of that, how about you take the timber transport rights?"
"...Pardon?"
"How long do you think I’ll keep leaving the North to handle the transport? If your guild can secure the timber transport rights from your Lontes territory, wouldn't it be possible to procure the furs right there on the spot?"
"...But our guild doesn't have the manpower to move the rafts as freely as you do, even if we got the transport rights."
"What’s the problem? You can just use the Northern laborers as they are. The laborers' wages are paid by the Lontes castle anyway, so what do you have to lose?"
"......!"
"Never mind. Forget I said anything. All of this is only possible if you can secure the transport rights from the Viscount of Lontes, and would the castle ever grant that?"
The merchant jumped to his feet without realizing it. A windfall like this!
"Don't worry about that, sir! In fact, the actual owner of our guild is Jefferson, the Adjutant of the castle. He can steer the contract for the timber transport rights to our guild whenever he wants!"
"Oho, is that so?"
Jamie’s eyes sparkled with interest, as if he were hearing this for the very first time.
"I’m back, Administrator."
Jamie, who had gone down to Lontes with a mission that could rapidly accelerate the North's growth, had returned.
"The results?"
Even Aiden, who never lost his composure, swallowed hard and asked urgently.
"...Heh."
"It’s done!"
"As expected!"
"Ha."
Jamie relaxed his stiff expression and pulled several contracts from his coat. Cheers erupted in the office immediately.
"Timber transport rights, the inn’s relay station contract, and even the joint investment contract for the large farm—all successful."
The contracts were all different, but they had one thing in common: they were all agreements between Northern entities and businesses privately operated by Lontes officials. And, they were all contracts that made it possible for Northerners to set foot in Lontes themselves.
"Stupid bastards."
To sign a contract without even knowing who would be entering their land, all for the sake of a few coins for themselves.
"This is why you shouldn't allow civil servants to hold side jobs."
When a certain personal gain is weighed against an uncertain collective loss, eight out of ten people will choose their own certain gain. That is human nature.
"Roland."
"I’ve already given up. A friend of mine who specializes in instructor recruitment will handle the training."
Roland raised both hands as if he had no regrets. Inwardly, however, he was trembling.
'The moment he identified the problem, he tightened the internal controls and attacked the outside.'
It was an established fact that officials sent to the North as administrators were usually being demoted. But Roland could no longer believe that his superior had been pushed out simply because he lacked connections or social awareness.
'What exactly does he intend to turn the North into?'
When the thought occurred to him that he might be witnessing a page that would remain in the history of the Empire, his body trembled involuntarily.
'I want to go with him.'
It was the day a fire was ignited in the heart of an administrator who had never had any grand aspirations.
Of course, if Aiden had known the truth of the matter, he would have shouted, "What kind of nonsense is that?" while his face twisted in disgust.
Sometimes, even if the person doesn't want it, the world creates a hero out of a human being.